The One
by Wolf-R
Summary: A re-write of a scene in Degrassi Goes Hollywood. What if the stress makes Ellie go back to some past habits? What if it got her into some deep trouble?
1. The One

**Note-I own nothing! I know this is kind of cliché, but I was watching the Degrassi movie and couldn't stop but think of what else could have happened in the movie instead of Ellie drinking. Perhaps, her self-harming peaking back out?**

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_"We ah, need to talk. You okay?" Craig looked at Ellie with minimal pity._

_"What are you doing here?" Ellie asked, looking at him sadly._

_"Look…I have this life here in LA. Its um, pretty perfect. Dream job, dream apartment. Great girlfriend…And all of a sudden, you show up. Then nothing seems so perfect anymore." His voice trembled and he looked at her carefully._

_"Yeah, ha. See, that's what I do. I'm the one who messes up peoples lives. Why don't you just leave? Because, you'll just be better off." Ellies voice cracked as she stared at him._

_"No, wait Ellie, no! That's not what I meant!"_

* * *

Ellie walked away quickly, dropping the bottle of vodka that she had once known so well. It's funny that only years ago was a time when she was actually trying to get away from it. She didn't need a drink. Nothing, no drug nor alcohol would compare to the need that was tearing her apart. Because, as she had so bluntly said, she would always be a cutter. It didn't matter how long she stayed clean. Cutting was her drug, her natural painkiller. Her mother's idea of pain killing, it was nothing.

Numb, is what she wanted to feel. This pain that was ripping her apart, it didn't matter. She needed the physical stuff first. And she knew where to get it. Basics, she had realized long ago. Ecstasy was expensive. But a razor, or a compass, or perhaps even a piece of glass? They were everywhere, and as easy to get as a pizza.

She only had to go as far as Paiges house. Razors were easy enough to get. The bathroom upstairs, it probably had three of them. She ran upstairs quickly and grabbed one, gritting her teeth without much of a thought. She held the razor to her side and slipped it into her pocket. Looking around, she shut the door and went against it.

Then, she cried.

It wasn't a pathetic cry. No, not at all. This was one full of agony and rage. This was one full of every emotion, pulled into her heart and kept there. She had been expected to hold up. To stick up, even though her father no doubt would somehow mange to get himself killed. Post traumatic stress? No doubt her mother was already picking up another bottle. She had finished rehab, but it didn't always help.

Ellie knew that one well.

Marco was worried. Always worried. She loved him to death, because he was in fact like her own brother. He had accepted her, despite her past flaws. Never before had she met someone so caring and divine. Marco had been her one light while she tried to stop cutting. But he had his own life. He had more things to worry about. Sickening, she thought silently. I'm sickening. I put my worries on him.

Craig, in addition, was one of the few guys who had ever known her and betrayed her, again and again. But he understood her. He understood her more than perhaps even Marco had. She cried more, because Craig was also one of the many reasons she wanted to do this. Craig, who understood her. Craig, who was willing to listen. And Craig, who constantly stole her heart and returned it shattered. She shook her head and lowered herself down even more.

Crying sucked, but it worked. It made thing a little more clear.

Ellie took out the razor and stared at it. It wasn't beautiful, or anything of the like. If there was a word to describe that razor in her hand, it wasn't in the dictionary. It was in some other language, or must have been. Because beautiful, was not a way to describe the thing.

Taking in a deep breath, she slid it. Closing her eyes and gritting her teeth, she had to try and not let out a yell of thanks. She had forgotten what the cut felt like. It was not a screaming feeling. It was not quite, though. It was a moderate, something that seemed normal and sane. Endorphins rushed through her body as she let out another sigh, and cut again. It wasn't usually her way, to do more than a few cuts. But it had been so long…And it felt nice to let out more and more releases.

* * *

By the time Marco and Craig found Ellie, she was barely awake. Pale and slinking, she didn't do anything more than allow herself to stay in Marcos clutches. He only stared at her. Craig, slowly paling himself, looked around franticly. In a mad rage, Marco looked up and growled at him.

"Go! Call 911 or something! Come on, dude! I told you, she's messed up. Go! You've done enough fucking damage, just fucking go!" He yelled, pointed to the door. He couldn't leave his best friend. And his anger to Craig was impossible. Holding her carefully, Marco managed to prop her up.

"I'm okay…Don't worry, Marco…I'm…Okay…" Coughing, Ellie opened her eyes only a little. Looking around for some sort of towel, Marco wrapped it around her wounded arm and held her close.

Craig dashed up and ran to the phone, dialing quickly and telling the person on the other line all of the info needed, Craig only kept himself together until the last second. He yelled into thin air, screaming and begging for some sort of help.

The party was long gone, having ended for about fifteen minutes. Everyone had already cleared, and so the house echoed with the utmost ease.

Paige had come up to see what the ruckus was, and her eyes met Craiges.

"What's your problem, hon? Got dumped by your girl?" Smirking, Paige walked over. She had actually softened to some degree, and couldn't help but make fun of the boy who had hurt one of her old time friends. Craig stared up again and looked carefully at Paige.

"She's hurt…Really bad…" Paige stared at him and her smirk fell.

"What did you do?" She said simply, suddenly remembering that this boy had once been an addict. Didn't they have anger problems, at times? Craig looked at his hands, and set his mouth.

"What the hell did you do?!" She screamed, getting closer. She stared intently at the man and her eyes bore into him.

"I…I…" Looking up quickly, tears were grazing his eyes. The room was blurry and dark to him, and he let in a breath.

Angered at the boy, Paige quickly left the room and stocked out, quickly looking for the girl. Although the house was large and navigating through it was difficult, sooner or later she found Marco and Ellie. Tears came to her eyes, and she walked out to wait for the ambulance. It came within minutes of her arriving downstairs, and took young Ellie in the seats.

Marco wouldn't leave his best friend.

**Okay, then! I tried, and my muse is up for this movie. Would you like me to continue? If so, just leave a review ^^**


	2. Chapter 2

**Note-I do not own Degrassi or any part of it! Wish I did, but I don't ^^ I own nothing except the story idea ^^.**

Perhaps the drive might have been easier, had Marco not stayed in the back. Perhaps the feeling in his gut might have eased, had he not watched his best friend being bandaged. Perhaps his hope might have been brought up, had he been deaf, and not able to hear the sirens. Perhaps had he driven alone, or with Paige and Craig, he might not have to worry every other second. Ellie Nash was his sister, even if not by blood. And it hurt, so freaking bad, just to see her as he did. But he managed. Feeling very little at the moment, he simply watched the paramedics quick movements.

When they arrived to the hospital, it was not quick moving or panicked like in the movies. The simply put her on a stretcher and carried her in. It wasn't panicked, and they didn't scream for a doctor to come. Instead, they walked in and brought her into a room, then telling Marco to stay where he was. To go into the waiting room. It seemed, that that was the only thing that even remotely made it seem like a television show.

Head buried in his legs, Marco had to keep himself from screaming at the doctors when they asked him if he needed anything at all. He had to hold his tongue completely when they asked him to see if the two others were really friends of Ellie.

When the other two entered, he simply watched them without care or any type of distaste or distrust. In fact, when Paige came up to him, he allowed her to wrap her arms around him, and allowed himself to melt in the comfort. Craig simply sat in the corner, and he did nothing more than stare blankly into space.

They stayed like that for hours. After a while, Marco fell asleep and Paige moved to another chair, fallowing suit. Craig was the last to drift, and his head pounded. He, too, felt the need and want of addiction, one he had so struggled with years ago. He hadn't taken his meds lately, and really had no reason to want to. If he had an episode, they'd kick him out. And then when (If?) Ellie woke up, she wouldn't blame him.

Drifting in and out of conciseness, he finally came around after a few quick moments of nothingness. It didn't stay long, this set up of anger and fear. It didn't mix well with him.

Marco came around only minutes before Paige, and when he did he managed to blink back and for a moment, swift and sensor, he almost thought the whole scene that was before him, that had been there only a six hours ago, it might have been a dream. Perhaps Ellie was alright, and it was just a result of the stress he was having in trying to get her to go home. When he finally realized where he was, he broke down once more. This time, Craig came to comfort him.

The boy stayed silent for what seemed like forever. His head was pounding and for a split second, he thought he might lose control. By some random role of fate, no such thing happened. He didn't lose his control, which was, by all concepts, totally and utterly amazing.

"I told you…You should have just let her be, man….She….She's never been…" Marco shook his head as he spoke, trying to make sure his voice wouldn't crack much more. "She's been under a lot of pressure, man…You didn't need to add more." Marco growled through his teeth, looking up between his bangs.

Craig didn't speak, yet again staying silent. It was, he guessed, his specialty. When he finally spoke, his voice didn't falter and his eyes didn't water. He was good at pretending, too.

"What do you mean?"

Marco looked up and twitched a little, flinching. "She's not good at handling things, man. You know that. You've seen her…Weak, defenseless. And you want know something? You're the one who made her like that, way too many times. And you are still wondering what the heck I mean?"

"And you're blaming me? You're her best friend! And you didn't even try to help her at all."

"Shut up! You know what? I'm the one that tried to get her away from you. Believe it or not, I have a heart." Marco glared and got up quickly, almost running out without a second thought.

"And at least I was willing to give it to her!"

"At least I didn't break her heart a million times!"

"Oh yeah? She told me about you two. You used her!"

"And you didn't?"

That shut them both up. They simply glared at each other. Many nurses looked their way, but did nothing more. It was a hospital. And people got overworked. It happened. One person, on the other hand, did get up.

"You guys are being idiots, you know." Paige's voice was weak and carried almost no emotion. It wasn't the usual joy filled, or pain filled, voice that the two former Degrassi High kids were used to. They shut up, not saying a thing at all.

"Quite amusing, coming from the girl who totally ignored a friend in need." Craig's voice, on the other hand, was full of a sort of strength and sureness.

"Craig…Let it go, man." Marco looked at his own hands.

"You let it go, man! It isn't fair! Everyone ignored her or hurt her, and you want to know what happens? She gets hurt!" Craig looked around, waiting for someone to come up and take him out. No such luck.

"Not everyone hurt her, you know." Paige whispered slightly, peering at Marco.

"I tried to get her home…No doubt that caused some stress." Marco said, gritting his teeth.

Nothing else happened. They sat there for several minutes, or perhaps several hours. In a clinic, in a hospital, it was all the same. No time was counted for.

Finally, a doctor stepped out. Or perhaps a surgeon? It was hard to say. He wore a grim expression, and his brown hair was messy, result of a hard work day, no doubt. His chocolate eyes were full of sorrow, and suddenly they realized who he was directing his attention to.

"I'd like to talk to one of you three, if that's alright…" He said.

They looked at each other.

"Why not all of us?" Craig asked quickly.

"It'll just be easier…For one of you to know and tell the others…It's much more difficult…With many…" He said quickly. Looking among themselves, Marco got up first.

The doctor directed him through the hallways, and when he stopped, he looked up at the boy. His eyes were dim, and he didn't speak for a long time.

"Well?" Marco asked, watching the man carefully. They had come into an empty space, more than likely a vacant waiting room.

"Sit down, Marco…Please…" The doctor stared at the floor.


	3. Chapter 3

_**I own nothing, ect, al. And on another note, I thank you for your comments ^^ There was one in particular that I'd like to point out. Actually, yes, it is usually direct family that reseaves news of a persons conditions. Trust me, I've been to the hospital several times and know this fact by heart. But, this is fiction…Thanks for the comments, everyone! I'm glad to get them all :)  
**_

Marco stared at the doctor with intense eyes, watching his every move. The man hesitated, meeting Marco's eyes at the last minute. Time seemed to stand still for the boy, and he had to keep his whole body from shaking.

"Ellie has been severely damaged…A main vein was cut open, you see, and the damage was quite extreme…But we managed to maintain her." The doctor closed his eyes as the boy started to smile.

"So she'll be okay then, right?" Marco asked, with little hesitation in his voice. His hopeful face was nothing more than an obvious reaction. Marco smiled even wider, but it faltered as he looked at the doctors face once more. To a great extent, the look was not totally hopeless. It wasn't even totally full of pity, but it did hold a sort of reaction, one in which might have made someone worry. The man bit his lower lip, but didn't show much more emotion than that. It seemed that doctors had to be pretty good actors as well.

"You must understand the conditions that she was put onto, and you must also understand that this is in fact a very dangerous situation. She's been given blood transfusions, and a surgery to try and keep up her health. But you must also understand that unless, of course, she can…Wake up…" He said this with little emotion, and it almost made Marco scream in rage. Did this man even care?

"Wh-what do you mean?" Marco asked in a dry voice, his vocal box almost not vibrating enough to make sound. Rasping, I suppose, might have been a better word to describe how he spoke.

"She's in a coma…A reaction to stress on the body and mind, I have no doubt. And the sastistics show that she might come out of it….Or, she might not. It depends on the situation that her body can uphold. If she can stay alive for until her body decides it can come out, yes, she might just be okay…But if not, I'm afraid there's nothing more we can do." Gently, the man went up to Marco. "Do you need a moment, son?"

Marco nodded, and closed his eyes.

After the doctor left, Marco sat there for several minutes. Or perhaps longer. He buried his head between his legs and sobbed, taking in rough intakes of breath whenever he could. His heart ached, and deep down he knew what he had done was wrong. He should have tried to be a better friend…He should have tried to stay with her. He should have remembered the fact that Ellie was, in fact, an addict. And that it was no doubt her idea that going back would be the best route.

Whatever brought Craig into the same room as Marco, he had not a clue. It had been a single handed miracle, and when he saw Marco crying there, he sat down as well. He watched the boy for several minutes until he poked his head up and stared into Craig's eyes.

Oh, and Craig had felt pain. He had felt it when his father had beaten him, and when he had no longer been aloud to see his little sister. He had felt it when he went to the grave at night, and he had felt it when he knew that he was Bi-polar. Yet, never before had he seen such a raw, unfeeling gaze. One so full of pain and suffering. Never before, had Craig known this kind of emotion.

And instantly, Craig felt himself go down. He didn't cry. That wasn't his game. He couldn't cry. Because he knew better than that. Marco could cry, because he was stronger than Craig. But Craig had nothing to cry for. He had caused this. He, who had claimed to love this girl now so hurt, had nothing to cry for. Because he had caused this even to unfold.

Lastly, whatever drew Paige to come into the room, is even more a mystery than what brought Craig. Perhaps it was the feeling of hurtful, unspoken words that she so wished to lash at herself and the other two, that brought her to the near empty room. Or perhaps it was a connection that she held with the two boys. None the less, she found herself in the room, and she looked upon the boys.

She saw exactly the same thing within Marcos eyes as Craig did, but even more so. She knew Marco, far to well, and it would have taken someone who had befriended him for, and known him for, as long as she did, to understand what he looked like. The boy, usually so strong and compelled, was a mess. Because his best friend was in there, the place they both hated so much. Paige pitied him, but chose not to walk up and comfort the boy. Instead, she drew her eyes upon Craig.

Oh, and this boy was no more content or pulled together than Marco was. Craig, though his eyes were not bloodshot and his face was not wet, had an utter blankness inside of his eyes. A lack of being, of soul. He was tinkering with his shirt, and mumbling something to himself. She couldn't make out the words, and she didn't want to think of what he was saying. Instead, she went over and sat next to the two boys.

The dark room held no comfort as she cried. It comforted no one, man nor woman, nor child. Had anyone entered the room, they might have thought they had entered the very corridors of Hell. Empty ghosts of the past were the only comfort, and even those made the group feel a thousand times worse. Because those ghosts only haunted them. The reminded them of every moment they had ever ignored, neglected, or even put in danger this friend.

It offered little comfort, true, but it did offer shelter. At least in this room, it was much more a place of protection, a place where they could grieve openly. Grieve of the future.

They fell asleep like that, mourning and hoping. Their dreams would be filled with anguish visions of the past.

_**Okay! Now, feel free to review ^^ I apologize that the chapter was mainly describing, but that's the mood I was in ^^ Now, heres your chance to get involved. I'll wait until tomorrow night to take suggestions, mainly because I'm egging on to keep writing. Now, what should be do with Ellie? Allow her to heal? Or perhaps have her fall into the clutches of death? Also, if you wish her to live, would you like her to get together with Craig again? Or dis him? Of course, I have the right to change and edit, but any and all suggestions are appreciated! Thank you for reviewing!**_


	4. Chapter 4

What was the point of forgetting? The cocaine, so easy to get long ago, had always seemed like a thing of the past. But Craig suddenly realized, sooner than he should have, that it was there. He could get it, and he'd have nothing to look back upon.

'Just leave me alone!'

'I can't!'

'Why not!?'

'You know why, Craig…You know, so don't ask again…Please.'

Breathing in and out through his nose, Craig shook his head and let his arms go. He didn't speak, barely breathed. But he was still alive. And while he was, he wouldn't dare try to ruin it. Not until Ellie came back to her senses. Not until she was alright again. Not until he knew, for a fact, that he had something to live for.

All of his life, Craig had been fighting for something to live for. And the instint he had her, the one thing that would make him keep living, he let her go. Nothing could compare to that fact. Feeling a slight wind blow past him as Marco paced, Craig too tried to get up. But he didn't.

Finally, the man that had come up to Marco before, the doctor, came up again. He shook his head and looked up. The group of three quivered and stayed quiet, staring at the man. He might have been God, for the way the three looked at him. He might have been the devil, for he could deliver the fatal news. Their hearts beat as one, as each of them stared at the him.

It took several minutes for the young man to say something, but when he did, his voice was full of hope.

"Eleanor has woken up…Though how is much more of a mystery to us than anything. If you wish, you can go in…But no more than one at a time, please…And try not to put too much strain on the patent." He didn't address Ellie by name then, and looked to the group with slight fear. No one would get up, only stare at the ground and beat around the idea. Even if they could get in there, what would they SAY. 'Heya, Ellie. Look, we're really sorry that we acted like idiots, it probably won't happen again.' And you can't scream at someone like that, beg them and annoy them. It wasn't possible.

Marco made the first move. He got up quickly, not saying a word, and nodded. Craig and Paige looked up with unsure looks, but nodded none the less. They were afraid to go, anyways.

As the two walked by several other rooms, Marco peaked in to see what else was going on. In one room, a woman held a child and stroked it tenderly, while the father beamed down proudly. In another room, a family was speaking to one another with smiles on their faces. Still, in other rooms, some were lonely and had no one to comfort them. Or worse yet, some had a person they unwillingly wanted in the room. You could tell by the look of displeasure on their faces.

Which of the guests would Marco be?

When they finally got to the room, the man nodded at Marco. "Go on in, boy. If any problems occur, just call a nurse, alright?" He waited for Marco to go into the room, then closed the door carefully. Feeling a sudden dark air in the room, Marcos heart sunk. Empty, lifeless, and boring, was what the room seemed to be. It looked as if the occupant inside had long since been dead.

"Marco?" A gruff voice whispered, so low a dog might not have heard it. Suddenly, Marco perked up and looked over to the girl on the bed.

How frail and weak she looked! In the hospital gown she was now in, she looked as if she was about to be diagnosed with some killer illness. Her skin was paler then the clouds color, and her body was rigged. Her hair was messed up, and her eyes were barely open. Dark circles coated the bottom of both eyes.

Marco gulped in and forced a smile. Making his way to the bed, he knelt down next to her bedside and reached for her hand.

"Hey, El. How ya feeling?" Dumb question, and something that no doubt would have come out of some cheesy soap-opera. But it was the only words that would fall out of his mouth, so they would have to do. It pained his heart to see her strain to stay awake, but he managed not to rush out of the room. She gave him a kind of glare and huffed.

"Oh yeah. Suicide watch, having blood pumped into me. Whole body feels like crud. I'm feeling just dandy, Marco. Maybe I should just go for a run or something." Sarcastically, she rolled her eyes. Afterwards, she flinched slightly and gritted her teeth.

"Well, at least you have enough strength to spit comments back at me." He replied softly. It wasn't awkward like it should have been. They'd been best friends for what seemed like forever…He could handle this.

Ellie closed her eyes for a moment then sighed. "I'm…So sorry…You had to see me, like that…And that you have to see me…Like this…" Her words were spread apart, and came out pained. Still, she shook her head and grimaced. Marco flinched then squeezed her hand hopefully.

"This isn't your fault…Craig shouldn't have acted like that, and your mother shouldn't have accused you." He softly uttered the words, but a bitter mix came into them. He was angry at both of them, majorly.

"I wasn't trying to commit suicide…" She whispered, shaking her head.

"I know…I think I got that when you were telling me you were okay…" Marco said simply.

"I just…I hate this…I can't fix any of it…And the blade, it made everything seem so much better…It was really pretty, you know? And it felt so good to release some of it…Please understand…" She begged, looking him in the eyes.

"Of course I understand, El. I would never judge you. You never judged me." He replied back, smiling slightly.

Her eyes slowly closed and she snuggled back into the bed.

"It's really cold in here…" She commented, before falling back into a dream land.


	5. Chapter 5

Marco sighed softly and kissed her forehead before getting up. The whole world was screwed up it seemed, but this was a type of screwed up nobody needed.

Ellie Nash. His best friend. His only friend whom he had trusted during the coming out prosess. He had trusted her with every secret possible. Why hadn't she trusted him? He could remember clearly the day she had told him that she had self injured, and what had fallowed. While watched his frail, pale figure, he closed his eyes and went back to the past.

They were in Marcos house, eating a bag of Lays Potato chips, laughing at something from school. He couldn't clearly remember what it was, but he did remember the joy on Ellies face. It was unusual to see, and despite her constant reassurance that she was fine with what was happening, Marco always saw that little bit of depression inside of her eyes. That little piece of death, that part of her eye that never lit up entirely, no matter how big the laugh.

Ellie, much to Marco's supprise, wore a short sleeved shirt. He assumed, because of her label at school, she always wore fish nets, long sleeved shirts, etc. to try and act like the crowd she belonged in. It was only until he saw the fragile little scars on the inside of her wrist that he suddenly realized it. He had heard slight whispers about it, but he didn't pay much attention. Gossip is gossip. It isn't truth. But now, the realization hit him.

The rumors were true?

He stopped grinning for a moment and then reached out his hand. "Ellie?" he asked softly, putting his hand on her arm.

She looked shocked for a moment, then looked down to her arm. Her eyes widened.

"Um…Yeah?" she asked softly, looking at his face. Marco didn't look up. Staring as if it was the worst travesty committed on Canadian soil, he blinked.

"Whats that?" he questioned.

"Um…Well…" she struggled for words then looked away. "Scars…From self injury tools…" she admitted softly, and Marco looked up.

"Why?" he asked, tearing up.

"It helped…" she replied, looking away.

Months later, when she was grinning happily on stage, Marco looked at her. "Happy birthday!" he said.

"Like I care about the day of my birth," she had replied, smiling sluggishly.

"But I care about the happy," he replied, before going back to his instrument.

Reality rushed back then, and Marco blinked back tears before turning to the door. A lanky, leather baring boy stood there. The musician smiled sheepishly.

"Mind if I come in?" Marco have the rockstar a hard look.

"Say whatever. But if you hurt her, ever like you did before, I'll hunt you down and murder you with my bare hands.

Craig had no doubt Marco meant it.

(Sorry it took so long! I've been supper busy, but I'm updating now during the summer! )


	6. Chapter 6

Marco pushed past Craig, his eyes hard and serious. After only a few moments, when Marco was gone, did Craig look directly at Ellie. The bed's (Could it be considered a bed?) sheets were then and barely covered her body. Her thin, frail body.

Shadows engulfed the lower part of her eyes, and though they were closed, the tightened every other seconds, a type of flinching movement. Easing his way over to a chair, Craig watched the girl without sound. Feeling hot tears starting to run down his face, Craig quickly shut his own eyes, shaking his head. Don't cry, you don't deserve to cry. Crying will make you feel better. You deserve to feel as much pain as she's feeling.

Opening his eyes again, Craig stayed focused on Ellie. They way her breath was now steady, the way that she occasionally moved an arm or leg. How messy her hair was. What he saw that made him most upset, though, was how, outside the covers, there was a bit of white, slightly tinted bandage.

I caused this, he thought silently. I caused this, it's my fault. Jesus, it's my fault…

Another thought hit him almost instantaneously.

Was this how he had looked to Ellie, when he had been throwing his life away? To the others? Is this why she so desperately wanted him to stop? Or had it truly been because she…Loved him? Was that even possible? Joey and his little sister had been the only ones to ever love him. Was it possible that what Ellie had said was nothing more than mere truth?

It might have been an hour that Craig waited there. It might have been longer. Still, Craig waited without complaint. Eternity was there for him to grab, and he was sitting in a room that seemed more like a time capsule then a place of healing.

Healing? Ha, ha, ha…

Just then, a little more movement fallowed by the crunching of the bed sheets made Craig turn his attention back to the bed. Ellie slowly opened her eyes, and looked at Craig carefully.

"Marco?" she whispered, hoarse and weak. Craig almost corrected her, but waited a few moments, to take in the fact that she was still alive. Still…Okay. Not in the grip of death as she had been only a few days earlier. She was blinking, as if to get the sleepiness to fade off.

"Marco left…" he whispered, hoping she wouldn't have to strain to hear his voice. "It's Craig…"

She stayed as she had been for only a few moments, until the words hit her. Right then, she looked up again and stared at Craig. How much anger, hurt, and…love there was in those eyes! She looked as if she would kill him, then bring him back to life. The hope in her eyes was undeniable, but still it was covered by all those other feelings that he had known from the start she'd hold deep inside her.

Though, he had hoped the feelings wouldn't be so strong.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Ellie growled, glaring at him before looking at the door. "Get the hell out, now," she tried pointing, but desperately failed. Instead, she yelped in pain as the IV pulled and her wounded arm screamed. Ellie rarely cried. But at the reminder, she laid her head down and tears started to pool.

"Damn, damn," she whimpered, shaking her head. "Why the hell am I so stupid? Why can't I get anything right?"

Craig was not one to try to comfort. It was one of those reasons he had hated Group so much. While you were talking about your own problems, you had to talk and help others with theirs. He had never been able to do that.

So he just stood there, looking away.

When Ellie finally stopped she closed her eyes again and awaited sleep to take her.

Why was Craig here? She didn't want him to see her like this, weak, pathetic. It wasn't even so much the fact that he had hurt her….It was just that, she hated him, excpessilly, seeing her in this state.

"You still here?" she asked before he got up and left, head down.

"I'm really sorry," he whispered.

Ellie had heard that. She was already drifting back into a land where she didn't have to worry.


	7. Chapter 7

Author's note-I apologize for how long this took, but if anyone wants to still review this, I'm going to keep trying to update this summer.

It was the next day when Paige finally got the courage to walk into the room. During this time, she had called most everyone that would care about where she (Paige) was, why she was here, and why she probably would be out of work for a little while.

The sun was coming into Ellie's room when Paige stepped in, and the young, fragile girl was well awake with it. The bandages on her arms seemed more like sleeves, but it seemed as if Ellie was much more intent on what was behind them.

So was Paige. But she wasn't totally sure it was going to be her that was seeing the self inflicted wounds. Instead, she was more certain that Craig would get the full shell-shock. It seemed like he deserved it more than anyone.

Craig…He had walked out yesterday in a panic, his breath heavy and his body heaving. He wasn't crying…Craig didn't cry. But it seemed like he would have, had he been more emotional.

"Hey," Paige whispered softly, hoping that the voice would not zap her out of her trance too quickly. Despite how dead Ellie looked, at least she didn't seem to be thinking of taking a razor to her skin again.

Ellie quickly looked up, hiding her arms under the thin sheet between her body and the cot, and gave off the fakest smile Paige had ever seen.

"Hey!" She cried, as if she didn't realize where they were. Her eyes, too, had lightened up. Still, that didn't stop the fact that a few seconds ago, she'd been staring and, Paige had no doubt, cursing herself for what she'd done.

"How's it going?" Paige asked hesitantly. Damn! Stupid question, she yelled to herself. How do you think it's going?

"It's…" She hesitated, as if wondering to lie or not. Then, suddenly, her body started shaking and sobs escaped her mouth. "It's horrible…."

Paige's eyes softened more then she had ever let them soften before, and she approached the cot slowly. For once since this whole ordeal, Paige didn't hesitate when she sat on the edge of the cot and wrapped Ellie's frame into her own body.

She was so tiny! It was ironic. Sickening, really. Why hadn't they all realized it before? She looked like she was on the verge of death again, with her thin body and pale exterior. Her hallow, sad eyes wept tears, but her eyes seemed as if they were weeping blood.

What could Paige say? It's going to be okay? She didn't know if it would be. This situation seemed like more then what they had ever gone through before.

So she didn't say anything. She held the girl and let her cry, and as the sobbing continued, Paige wept with her.


End file.
